


Left to Your Own Devices, a Master of Disguises

by PercyKane



Series: All I See is Gold - Kink Bingo [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Between S2 and S3, Bottom!Stiles, Canon Divergent, Lingerie, M/M, One Shot, Pack Only In a Small Scene, Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Top!Derek, cross dressing, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:25:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PercyKane/pseuds/PercyKane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Bingo Slot: Cross Dressing</p><p>The Queens of Club Serenity give Stiles the full drag queen treatment and he bumps into someone familiar.</p><p>((This is not new, I'm conducting edits, so sorry if this comes up as new.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left to Your Own Devices, a Master of Disguises

**Author's Note:**

> Title from All I See is Gold by Bridgit Menlder

Kitten stood in front of him with a perfectly shaped brow arched high over bronze glitter shadowed eyes. Behind her was a vintage vanity covered in various colours and types of makeup he couldn't even begin to guess at naming. It didn't matter though because she was about to teach him all about it. 

"Babyface, you give me so much to work with I don't know where to start," the drag queen clucked, taking his face in her manicured hands and tilting it this way and that. Somewhere out of sight Angel mumbled something vulgar and popped her chewing gum loudly. 

"Oh yes, those lips!" Kitten agreed, thumbing Stiles' lower lip, a thoughtful expression schooling her features. With a short nod and spun around and picked up a tube. She explained everything as she did it, made sure he could see what she was doing in the mirror so he would be able to do it himself. 

She applied moisturiser, concealer, a powdered foundation, kept it extremely simple but managed to achieve a flawless airbrushed look that highlighted particular features and made him look more feminine. She told him how much it all cost, put the items in a bag for him to take home because yes Kitten had bought all these brand new just for him.

Once the foundation was finished and the canvas set for painting, Angel strutted over to shove her face in the way and take a look. Her sharp blue eyes were heavily winged with black eyeliner and they surveyed him critically. Kitten stood off to the side, picking up and putting down different pencils and circular trays. 

"Black and gold." Angel threw over her shoulder. Kitten hummed in approval but didn't look up from her selections. Angel straightened, popped her gum again and returned to her seat in the corner, long blonde curls bouncing in her wake.

Sometime between Kitten lining his eyes with black eyeliner and the application of gold eyeshadow, Poppy appeared. She flounced over, vibrant red hair flashing around Stiles' peripherals. Kitten held his face still with a firm hand on his jaw so he couldn't look around to see the red haired wonder until she popped her face into his line of sight. 

"Looking good Chicky," Poppy beamed with a wink. He managed a small smile before Kitten was growling at him to hold still. 

"Did you get the right one?" Angel called out to Poppy. Kitten pulled away to swap the eyeshadow for some glitter, allowing Stiles to curiously look at the bag Poppy held in her hands. Not one to disappoint, she dug into it and pulled out a box and placed it in Stiles' lap. Nervous, Stiles took the lid off slowly and caressed the hair inside gingerly. 

"It's beautiful Poppy, thank you," he smiled, letting her take it from him. 

"Just wait till you have it on!"Kitten stuck her head over to take a look at the wig and cooed, complimenting Poppy on her choice. Stiles was given a five minute break to pee and have a drink before he was pushed back into the chair to finish off his makeover. 

Poppy cleared a space on the edge of the vanity so she could perch herself there while Kitten worked. She chatted to Stiles while he pouted and puckered, while Kitten painted his lips in several layers. It took over an hour but by the end of it, Stiles was no longer Stiles. Even with his short hair, the person in the mirror looked like Snow White. 

"Wait wait wait!" Poppy screeched, throwing herself in front of the mirror, "it won't have the same effect unless you're all made up!" 

Kitten agreed and tossed a shawl over the vanity mirror. 

Stiles was pulled up and out of his chair and stripped of his clothes. Jeans and flannel and undershirt went flying into a pile in the corner of Kitten's bedroom. They had already sent him to get waxed earlier in the week so his legs, ass, balls, chest and arms were as smooth as a prepubescent. 

His cheeks heated up in embarrassment that the drag queens around him didn't have time for. They spun him around and eyed him like a prize piece of meat until Kitten finally starting throwing articles of clothes at him. First was a white pair of panties, the tight Lacey kind that were made for men so his junk wouldn't flop about. They held him in with surprising strength, keeping him comfortable but smoothing his front down so you couldn't really tell he had a dick.

The bra was next, matching white lace and padded lightly. He thought it looked a little funny against his chest but trusted the girls knew what they were doing. He pulled on white stockings, had to have Poppy help him connect the garters. Slipped into a red velvet dress that rubbed against his skin and gave him goosebumps. 

The dress had a high neckline that sat at the base of his throat, sleeves that reached his wrists but a hemline that only barely covered his ass. Peering down he now saw how the bra gave the illusion of small but svelte curves, blending perfectly with the rest of his body, like they really were there. 

Sleek black heels were procured, nothing close to the high stilettos Kitten, Poppy and Angel wore but high enough to accentuate his legs. Low enough he wouldn't stumble in them and break his neck. He slipped into them, took a couple practice steps and then paced the room until he felt confident. 

The three women sat and watched him with open amusement. He came to a stop in front of Poppy and she made him sit down so she could out the wig on his properly. She fixed it tightly to his head and whipped out a curling iron. Instead of Angel's tight corkscrew curls though, Poppy went with loose open waves, a sexy tousled look that Stiles imagined looked like he'd just had quite rigorous sex and tried to comb his hands through his hair to tame it. 

"Okay now you can look," Poppy declared smugly. He was pulled by the three ladies over to the full length mirror that covered the built in wardrobe and spun around to see his reflection. 

It was Stiles but it wasn't. His pale skin was now a glowing pearly white, his moles and freckles looking more like a tantalising constellation than random splatters. The base of his throat and his delicate collarbones peeked out from the neck of the dress and he couldn't help tilting his head to the side and admiring the long stretch of his bared throat.

His body was now that of a lithe young woman's, tight and slender, the delicate curves of breasts melting to a sleek tapered waist. He had small hips, not much could be done about that but the way the dress hugged the perfect roundness of his ass and his firm thighs more than made up for it. The thin white fabric of his stockings hugged his legs, were just sheer enough to make out the moles that decorated his thighs and calves. 

Eyes coasting back upwards he took in his face, his own normal features had been made feminine and gentle. His eyes looked impossibly large, wide and the colour of crystallised amber. They popped out and drew you in, kept you captured with their mixed tones of chocolate brown and molten lava. Black eyeliner ringed his eyes, gave way to the bright gold eyeshadow peppered with glitter. 

His lashes, naturally dark and long hadn't needed fake eyelashes. His lips were painted rich red stain that wouldn't smear or wear off. The girls weren't fans of the over dramatic or over exaggeration. They liked to highlight what you already had. Their aim wasn't to be someone different, it was to be a different version of themselves. 

The shiny black wig was made of real hair, Poppy owned a wig store, so it had been a gift. All of this was a gift for Stiles' 18th birthday. Something they had talked about with him on many occasions but only now had the opportunity to try out. The wig was perfect and looked completely natural. It had a fringe that framed his face and Poppy had styled it so artfully, a soft tousled design that reached his 'breasts' and curved around the mounds invitingly.

All in all Stiles looked like an extremely sexy young woman. And he loved it. He could feel a thrilling sensation coursing through his veins. He wanted to go out, wanted to dance, wanted to flirt and laugh and let out all he had been locking inside him since the werewolves had come to town. 

"Babyface, you are so ready to dance," Kitten remarked, twirling her finger around so he would turn for her. On her left, Angel was grinning manically.

"I think he's got his stage name well and truly sorted then," Angel cackled, whipping out her phone and taking a photo of him. He couldn't help the pretty pout that took over his face just before the click of the camera went off. Babyface? Really?

"He needs a proper name," Poppy defended. Because Babyface was all well and good between them but it was an intimate affectionate term he wouldn't want strangers calling him. And the girls of Serenity, the one of only two LGBT clubs in Beacon Hills, weren't really fans of punny stage names. They didn't have anything against them, they just preferred singular first names for themselves. 

Again Stiles reminded himself he wasn't trying to be someone different. He was trying to bring out the person inside himself he hadn't been able to see lately. Or well, ever, in the current capacity. He wanted a name that perfectly matched the person he could see in the mirror. A name that had nothing to do with gender or appearance and everything to do with the sexy sultry rush that was thrumming in his veins.

"Selene." He stated softly, looking over to his mentors for their opinion. Two of three looked back in approval while Angel snorted. She gave him a lopsided smirk which Stiles counted as a win. 

"Well Selene, now you're all made up, I think it's time we take you out for a night on the town," Poppy decreed, flouncing over to Stiles and pulling him out of the house with the other two in tow.

~

Angel's girlfriend had been the one to find Stiles. After their initial disastrous night at Jungle, Stiles had gone back a couple weeks later full of curiosity. He'd ordered a coke and huddled in a corner shyly, hoping he didn't stick out like a sore thumb. Jenny, a petite Hispanic woman, had sidled up next to him and asked him if he was okay.

They'd started chatting and he'd confessed his interest in the drag queens he had met in his first visit. Jenny's chocolate brown eyes had gleamed mischievously and she had tugged him out of the Jungle and down three blocks to Serenity. The bouncer waved them in, pressing a kiss to Jenny's cheek on her way past. 

Inside she introduced him to her boyfriend Angel, who worked as a bartender at Serenity. He had been more than surprised when Angel turned out to be a glorious blonde amazon goddess who glared at Stiles stonily through Jenny's introduction. Angel shoved a lemonade in his direction, uttering 'fucking jailbait' under his breath before he turned to serve someone else. 

"Don't worry about him, we've been together eight years and I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen him smile," Jenny had laughed, guiding him away from the crowded bar. Stiles had thought about how much that reminded him of someone else he knew.

Jenny had then introduced Stiles to Kitten, the partial owner of the bar, Poppy, Jules and Sunshine. The crowd had welcomed him with open arms and patiently answered all his sheepishly asked questions, cooing over how his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

"I mean, if I wanted to," he'd waved his hand helplessly, "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Easiest way is to practice with your mothers makeup," Jules had told him with a wink. 

"I don't...she's uh she passed away when I was little."

And just like that they turned into mother hens that had embraced him and refused to let him go ever since.

~

Scott was pretty preoccupied with his woe these days. Him and Allison were in a break. Again. He split his time between working at the vet clinic and training with the other werewolves. Stiles saw him at school, of course, but he was always so mentally absent. Eyes glazed as he wallowed in self pity or bright with god knows what while he eye fucked Isaac from across the table. 

And it wasn't like Stiles could just hang out with Lydia and Allison. Since both their men were out of the picture they were glued at the hip. Two pieces that fit together and did not need an extra portion tacked on with chunks of sticky tape and kindergarten grade glue. All in all, Stiles didn't have many friends.

He wasn't even going to consider Derek, Erica and Boyd. 

They'd probably eat him if he suggested they go see a movie together. 

Kitten and her entourage were exactly what he needed to fill the hole the werewolves had made and left.

~

Serenity was pulsing. The music was a fast and fluid dance tune, bass throbbing rhythmically in a way that seeped under Stiles skin and made goosebumps ripple up his body. The lights were low and red on the dance floor, darkening to the right where dimly lit velvet booths were lined and lighting substantially on the left were the bar was, round bar tables and stools filled with people drinking and watching the writhing mass of dancing bodies. 

Drew, the bouncer, did a double take when Kitten and Poppy parted to display Stiles behind them with Kitten. The big guy ran an appraising look up and down Stiles' body and nodded.

"Looking good kid!" 

Inside they headed straight for the bar. Jeremy, Kitten's boyfriend was one of three manning the overrun bar. They waited patiently to finish a few orders before he turned to address them. Catching Stiles he let out a low whistle that couldn't really be heard over the music but was appreciated nonetheless.

"You make a hell of a young lady, Stiles," he complimented, flashing his dimples as he smiled widely. 

"That's Selene now, love," Kitten corrected, brushing an air kiss by Jeremy's face so she didn't get lipstick on him,"think you can whip up one of those amazing daiquiris you make so well for our little friend here?" Jeremy raised an eyebrow and Stiles couldn't help but laugh. Jeremy knew Stiles was only eighteen, he also knew his father was the Sheriff. As did Kitten.

"You asking me to provide liquor to the son of the Sheriff who is also a minor?" He teased, already getting out the ingredients. Kitten winked at Stiles and leaned over the counter, whispering something in her boyfriends ear Stiles couldn't hear but made the man behind the bar fumble and almost drop his glass.

"You're the boss!" Jeremy chuckled when Kitten pulled away.

"That's right, I am!" Kitten placed the usual drink orders for the rest of their group and they headed for the VIP booth, reserved for the owners, Kitten and Sunshine. Sunshine and Jules were already waiting, a couple empty glasses and discarded miniature umbrellas littering the table. 

Both of them screeched in delight at Stiles. They clasped him in tight hugs, made him twirl and begged for pictures so they could show their friends. Stiles gracefully suffered through it all, deep down loving all the attention he was receiving. When was the last time anyone had cared enough to ask him how his day was? Besides his father. He couldn't remember. But here, at Serenity, surrounded by people he'd only known a few short months but who he knew he could count on like family, he felt like he well and truly mattered.

His drink was delivered along with a cake, a surprise from Sunshine, and was then followed by another and another until he had a nice alcoholic buzz going. He couldn't remember the names of the brightly coloured drinks or how many small shot glasses with clear liquid that burned on the way down, he had thrown back. 

But finally, under the watchful eye of the queens, was he allowed out onto the dance floor.

He melted into the crowd. Let the notes of the music wrap themselves around him, let them control his movements so he flowed gracefully and artfully in time to the beat. Never in his life had he felt so empowered. So carefree and fearless. So absolutely sexy. The press of bodies against his had him heating up but not in a way that was uncomfortable. He danced alone and then with others as they came and went, for several songs.

Behind him someone was now plastering themselves to his back, grinding against his ass along with the sway of Stiles' hips. His heart lurched, in a mixture of nervousness and arousal. His eyes flickered to Poppy, who gyrating in a way that should be illegal, only an arms reach away. Poppy smiled encouragingly at him but with sharp eyes on the Stiles' dance partner and Stiles knew he was safe. That if he wanted to push the man away he could and he would have people around him straight away protecting him. 

The man behind him didn't push for anything further. Didn't bring his hands up to touch Stiles anywhere else. Just moved with him like they were one person until he was so comfortable he let his eyes slide shut and his body relax into the heat at his back. He could feel his dress riding up. Knew the bands connecting his stockings to his panties were being flashed in the red dance light. His long hair was suddenly pulled to one side, exposing the length of his neck to the man behind him. 

He waited for lips to press against his skin but none came. Instead hot heavy gushes of breath fanned against the arch of his neck, sweet and spicy. The blows sent shivers rolling down his chest, had his nipples stiff and pressing against the padding of his bra. His dick was already half hard and pressing at the confines of his panties. He wondered if he got hard enough if anyone would be able to see it through the tight material of his dress. The thought alone was just as thrilling.

"Can I touch you?" Came the husky question, startling Stiles from his journey through the sensations strumming through his body. His tongue was thick and he couldn't find the words to agree. Instinct took over and he nodded quickly, using their shift in position to tilt his neck so it was exposed, just like he'd done in the mirror earlier.

A growl emanated behind him. A low guttural sound that was achingly familiar but in his semi drunken haze he couldn't place. The song changed, more upbeat, and the guy behind him brought his hands to hold Stiles' waist, began to move him in a different motion, rolling his hips back against him. 

Stiles' mouth fell open with a silent gasp at the feeling of the hard cock pressing into his ass. A a hand trailed up his thigh, under the hem of his dress at the same time a nose coasted down the stretch of his neck. Exhaled. Inhaled.

"Stiles?!" 

Stiles blinked as the person behind him stepped back so abruptly he nearly tipped over in his heels. He fell forward and nearly into a dancing threesome, caught at the last minute by Poppy's strong arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him upright. His vision spun and it took him a minute to get his bearings. 

He did a double take when his eyes focused on none other than Derek Hale, dressed in sinfully in a tight black shirt and leather pants. Said man was standing stock still in amidst the crowd of writhing bodies, staring open mouthed at Stiles. 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Balls. 

"You okay?" Poppy was asking him, lips close to his ear. He nodded, not bothering to try to be heard above the music. He pulled out of Poppy's hold, remained steady on his feet and squared his shoulders. Before Poppy could punch Derek in the face, Stiles gestured for the werewolf to follow him to the booth. He didn't bother to check if he would, just headed for the familiar dark corner.

He felt numb. Derek had obviously thought he was someone else. Why wouldn't he? It's not like he knew Stiles hung at Serenity. Or had an interest in dressing in women's clothing. Hell, Stiles didn't even know Derek would come to a place like Serenity. But there he was. And here was Stiles.

What the fuck did he do?

Jules was the only one at the booth. She took one look at Stiles, flicked a look over his shoulder and disappeared quicker than Stiles could blink. He turned and saw Derek at his back, too close for comfort. Stiles took a step back, the edge of the booth's table bumping against the back of his thighs. The older man didn't move backwards though, he moved forward, crowding into Stiles' front. 

Fuck, Derek couldn't actually be mad at him could he? His panic gaze searched for one of the queens to check if someone was keeping an eye on him. He couldn't see much beyond Derek's wide shoulders, forcing him to meet the werewolf's burning gaze. He was totally about to get his throat ripped out. He was going to die an eighteen year old virgin. Death by pissed off werewolf.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles squeaked, unable to look away from the mesmerising display of green, blue and gold that was Derek's eyes. 

"I could ask you the same thing," Derek growled.

"But I asked first!" Stiles threw back petulantly. Derek snorted, leaned forward and pinned Stiles in place by putting his hands on the table behind him, one arm on either side, caging him in. The older man looked hesitant for a split second but it was gone as quick as it came replaced by what Stiles could only guess was determination.

"I didn't know it was you," he hummed, bending down to speak directly into Stiles' ear, "you smell so different, sweet, like strawberries and cream." His breath rushed over Stiles' ear, made him shudder, the movement rubbing him against Derek's body. 

What the fuck was he doing? Was he toying with him. Did he think this was funny? Anger welled up inside but didn't get the chance to be released. It was quelled by Derek biting down on the lobe of Stiles' ear and making him gasp. 

"I saw you dancing, moving like the music was made for you. Couldn't stay away. Like you were pulling me towards you with an invisible force. It surprised me when I smelled you through the perfume. The smell of Stiles, tart and sharp breaking through such a feminine delicate aroma." Derek skimmed his teeth against the shell of Stiles' ear as he spoke, confusing the younger man further.

"Fuck, I want you so much." The rumbled confession was what had Stiles pushing at Derek's chest until he could be eye to eye with the bigger man. Derek's pupils were blown and were currently searching Stiles' face. The expression of heat and utter want was something so foreign to see on Derek's face. Stiles didn't know what to make of it. Kept feeling like Derek would push him away at any moment and laugh in his face. 

Because really, what man looking like Derek wanted a kid like Stiles? And the two of them weren't even friends. Derek didn't even like him. He hated him. He threw him into walls and threatened him for gods sake. This was all just a sick joke. Any second now the spell would break. The penny would drop. 

Derek must have sensed the change in Stiles' mood. He grasped the younger mans jaw in his hands, forced him to look into his eyes and brushed their lips together. It wasn't a kiss. Just a whisper of a touch but enough to pull Stiles from his train of thought.

It seemed like that was happening a lot tonight. He wondered if it was possible to get mental whiplash.

"Stop thinking so much. You're always thinking. Stiles Stilinski, the boy who never fucking shuts up, even in his mind." He opened his mouth to protest but it was covered by Derek's, captured in a wet, passionate kiss that had him reeling. There was no coaxing. The man dived in, stroking his tongue against Stiles', artfully tracing his teeth in a way he should not find sexy but did. Their lips mashed, slid slickly, clung, bit and nibbled. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind cast a spare thought to his lipstick. He knew it was smear proof for food and drink but under the current onslaught of Derek's mouth, he wasn't so here it would smudge over the both of them. And ooh wasn't that a thought, Derek's mouth covered in red lipstick from their kisses. What would it look like to Derek if Stiles sucked his cock into his mouth, red lips stretched to accommodate his girth.

Derek's fingers slipped from his jaw to the back of his neck, squeezing and prompting Stiles to open his mouth wider. The kisses were drugging. He felt his mind thick and foggy with arousal, fingers scrabbling for purchase along Derek's shoulders so he wouldn't slide to the floor when his weak knees gave way. 

"Wait, Derek, what are we doing?" Stiles stammered out between kisses. Derek rested his forehead against Stiles and stared into the younger man's eyes intently. 

"Whatever you want."

"Oh. Okay." He blinked up at Derek owlishly, not sure what to do with this information. 

"Don't think about it," Derek murmured, "just come with me." He cupped Stiles' face again and kissed him again, took Stiles' lower lip between his and sucked on it like a lolly. He took Stiles' hand in his and led him toward the entrance of the club to leave. They were halfway to the front when Stiles had the sense to pull them up short.

While he was totally onboard with Derek's no thinking demand he should tell the queens where he was going. He didn't want to cause a panic when they couldn't find him. Derek looked at him questioningly. Stiles didn't drop his hand, he squeezed it and held up a finger to signify one minute. 

He scanned the room and caught the eye of Angel who was sitting at the bar. Stiles jerked his head at Derek and pointed to the exit, hoping that would communicate to Angel that he was leaving. Angel gave him the trademark raised eyebrow and smirked knowingly. Stiles gave a small wave and nodded at Derek for him to continue on.

They made it to the camero, three streets away, before Derek dragged him close again. They were made out heavily for five full minutes, Stiles pressed with his back against the side of the car. The bliss was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out Derek's name. It was repeated until Stiles recognised the voice as being Lydia's and all but shoved Derek off of him.

Lydia, Allison, Scott and Danny all stood on the sidewalk. Stiles had a moment where he experienced the same panic he had in the club when he found out it was Derek that had seen him, only to remind himself what he looked like. For all intents and purposes, Stiles was not Stiles. 

To anyone else he was a tall, leggy dark haired beauty who Derek had picked up to take home for the night. Derek hadn't been able to smell it was Stiles until he had pretty much stuck his nose in Stiles' neck. Which meant that Stiles was safe from Scott sniffing him out. His worrying was all for naught though, no-one was paying him any attention, they were all focused on Derek.

"What do you want?" Derek asked, moving to half block Stiles from the view of the others. Lydia tittered but the others were unaffected by Derek's rudeness. 

"Saying hello, something polite people do when they see someone they know."

"Hello. Goodbye." Derek spun on his heel and opened the passenger side door for Stiles.

"Whose you're friend?" Allison inquired curiously. Stiles froze, one stocking clad leg already cocked to swing himself into the car. Derek was facing him, his face completely void of expression. Thinking quick, Stiles mouthed his stage name. A wide smile broke across Derek's face that Stiles couldn't help returning.

"Selene this is Lydia, Allison, Scott and Danny. Everyone, this is Selene." A chorus of greetings were offered. Stiles smiled shyly in their direction, not meeting anyone's gaze less they look a little too closely. 

"Well this has been charming but we have somewhere to be," Derek finished off, waving for Stiles to slide into his seat. He obliged, not casting a look at his friends until the door was shut behind him and he could gawk from behind the black tinted windows. The group of teens were already walking on, Lydia tapping away at her phone, Allison and Scott chatting animatedly and Danny leading the crowd down the street.

Derek fell into the drivers seat and started the car. It wasn't until they were off and on their way that Stiles let out the breath he had been holding. Derek chuckled lowly and let go of the wheel with one hand and placed it on Stiles' thigh, right where the hemline of his dress was riding up. 

"There was no way they would have recognised you, Stiles. Relax." 

They drove the rest of the way in silence. The trip wasn't overly long but Stiles felt his mind wonder every couple of minutes. Whenever his thoughts slipped to logic or rationalise the situation he trained his attention on Derek's hand on his thigh. Revelled in the tensing of those long fingers every time they stopped at a traffic light or held for grip when they turned a street. 

In no time they were parking in the apartment's parking lot and Stiles was trailing behind Derek up to the loft. It was the first time he had ever been in Derek's bedroom, after climbing the spiral staircase. It wasn't as bare as he assumed it would be. The walls were dark blue and covered in posters from bands and old movies. There was a tv tucked in the corner and around it were stacks upon stacks of DVDs. The bed was low, barely six inches from the floor but wider than any bed he had ever seen before. 

Derek was already stripping his shirt off and throwing it across the room. Stiles admired the triskele he had seen so many times from a far but never up close. Now he had the chance to. Now he could actually touch it like he had always imagined. He discarded his shoes by the door, bringing him down half a head in height. He walked over to where Derek had his back to him, concentrated on unbuckling his belt.

Stiles reached out and gingerly traced the swirling shape of Derek's tattoo. The man beneath his touch paused in his movements, belt half way out of the loops. Stiles kept tracing, long lazy lines, the skin stretching and rippling in reaction. He grinned to himself with goosebumps spread along Derek's arms as Stiles moved his hands to knead at Derek's shoulders.

Derek yanked his belt out the rest of the way and pivoted around to capture Stiles in his arms. Without his heels he was a little shorter than Derek now. It wasn't by much, enough that he felt smaller, fragile, delicate in Derek's arms but still powerful because he knew he was the reason for the thick cock pressing against his thigh, the sharp heavy breaths coming out of the man holding him. It was such a foreign feeling. So unlike how he had been feeling lately.

"You can't stop can you?" Derek whispered against his temple, tapping at Stiles' head with a finger, "let's see if I can help you." He cut Stiles thoughts off with a kiss, this one rough and aggressive, all deep pulls and sharp bites. It was everything he needed and never knew he wanted. 

Stiles' mouth fell open impossibly wide, tongue wrapping and rubbing around Derek's. He delved into Derek's mouth, learning it like Derek had done to him back in the club. He licked at Derek's lips and suckled on his tongue, earning a deep pleasured rumble from the back of the older man's throat. 

They broke on a gasp for breath, Derek kissing away from his mouth and down his chin, his throat, teeth biting threateningly accompanied by long languid licks to soothe the sting. The werewolf sucked marks into Stiles' white skin and rubbed his scruff against him until Stiles was sure he'd have beard burn covering his neck for the rest of the week. 

He couldn't hold back the whimpers that slipped out of his lips. Or the deep guttural moan that rolled out when Derek fisted a hand in Stiles' long wig to expose his neck further. Stiles could feel it slipping from his head, went to warn Derek but the man was already pulling the long hair off Stiles' head.

"Want to see your face, see you as you are." Derek kissed Stiles' ears, nibbled on the shell and bit sharply behind it. Stiles' let his hands wander Derek's bare torso. He skimmed the sculpted muscle, clutched at biceps and shoulders, carded his fingers through the short soft locks of Derek's hair. "You're so beautiful, Stiles, such a pretty boy for me." 

"Ah, yeah, there Derek." Derek's hands were creeping up the inside of Stiles thighs. Under the skirt of the dress they played with the top of Stiles' stockings, slipping under the fine fabric to rub at the indented skin. They tested the strength of the garter straps leading to Stiles panties, danced on the soft lacy material that held Stiles' stiff cock. 

He canted his hips towards Derek's, wanting friction. His cock was hard and needy behind the restricting panties but Derek wasn't done with his teasing. He rubbed his palm against Stiles' dick and then slid it around to Stiles' ass, kneaded circles into the plump flesh, slid his thumb along the crack behind the lace. 

Stiles was making all kinds of throaty, breathless noises. Noises that shot shivers straight to Derek's dick and had him thrusting into Stiles' hand that now cupped the front of his leather pants. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. 

"Can I take this off?" Derek asked, hand flipping the zipper of the dress at the base of the back of Stiles' neck. Stiles nodded, stealing another kiss to distract himself from being nervous as Derek slowly unzipped the dress. The front of the garment feel open and away from Stiles' chest, baring the bra and his stomach. He struggled to wiggle his arms free, let the dress hang from his hips. 

Derek's gaze was fixated on Stiles' bra, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Stiles felt a deep dark flush bleeding into his neck and cheeks, painting his skin pink and heating him up. The werewolf seemed extremely pleased with the gift he had unwrapped though, fingers flexing where they rested on Stiles' waist.

"Fuck Stiles." 

Derek ducked his head under Stiles' chin and kissed down his collarbone and all around the exposed skin that wasn't tucked behind the bra. Hands crept up and slipped under the wire of the bra to brush over Stiles' nipples, tweaking and pinching. Stiles threw his head back with a groan. He'd never known his nipples could be so sensitive. 

Derek chose that moment to lift him up and lie him on the bed. He held himself above Stiles on his elbows, kissing any and every part of Stiles he could reach. He pressed his lips down the flat plane of Stiles' stomach, licked into his belly button and hovered above the skirt of the dress that was still stretch over the lower part of Stiles' body.

The bulge wasn't that significant thanks to the compression of the panties. The outline was still visible though and Derek fixed his mouth onto it over the fabric, hot breath filtering through the material to rush over Stiles' cock. Derek tongued over the hardness, leaving wet marks in his wake. 

"Take...take the panties off," Stile choked out, fingers biting into the sheets, "too tight."

Derek moved quickly, flicking the garter straps off and sliding the knickers down Stiles' long legs, leaving on the stockings. He brought the panties to his nose and inhaled deeply, then tossed them on his beside table. He flipped Stiles onto his stomach, smiling smugly at the squeak that slipped out of the younger male.

He licked at the top of the stockings. Sucked long sliding hickies up the back of Stiles' thighs, loving the high pitched noises Stiles was trying not to let escape. He flipped up the bottom of the dress, exposed half of Stiles perfect round ass. He kissed it softly at first and then sunk his teeth in, savoured the flesh in his mouth. He nibbled his way to the middle and pried the cheeks apart, held Stiles' ass wide open with his hands so he could see the soft pink puckered hole hidden away.

He took in the image beneath him, Stiles writhing on his stomach, thrusting into the mattress to get some friction on his cock. His pearly ass, speckled with freckles and moles that peeped out at Derek from beneath the skirt of the blood red dress, the top of his thighs framed by gossamer thin stockings that wrapped around his never ending legs. The blackstrap and shoulder straps of his bra were visible, still in place even though Stiles had a hand slid beneath one cup and was fingering one of his nipples. 

Derek squeezed his cock through his leather pants, staving off the urge to cum in his pants. He jerked open the button and zipper, gave his dick a little more breathing room before he turned his attention pack to the delicious creature splayed out in front of him.

"You look so good baby, wanted you like this for so long," Derek whispered against the skin of Stiles ass as he licked his way around Stiles' hole. Stiles moaned filthily under the onslaught of Derek's tongue. It circled his hole, licked at him like a cat, dug into him in sloppy wet strokes. Somehow Derek had managed to grab lube and was probing a slick finger at Stiles' entrance. 

"Yes Derek, please, please, need you," Stiles whimpered, rocking his hips back. The first finger slid in easily, no doubt thanks to Stiles' frequent fingering sessions when at home alone late at night. The second fell in beside the first just as easily, slick with lube, and made squelching sounds when Derek withdrew them and pushed back in. 

Derek fingered him in a steady rhythm that was slow and torturous. He tongued around his fingers, licking into Stiles' opening held open by his scissoring fingers. He crooked them, searching for that bundle of nerves hidden deep inside that he knew would have Stiles-

"Ooh!" Stiles howled, shoving his face into a pillow and biting down. He could feel Derek's grin against his skin. Jesus Christ the man was a menace. He'd found Stiles' prostate in a matter of minutes and was currently twisting and pressing his fingers against the spot relentlessly. Stiles could barely breath through his mouthful of pillow but he could barely contain his pleasure moans. 

"Let me hear you." 

"Uhhh," Stiles let out a strangled groan, Derek having now removed his fingers from him completely. He felt empty. Needed Derek to fill him up. He begged, half out of his mind and dizzy with arousal. Said things he would usually blush at but couldn't bring himself to care. He pinched at his nipple under his bra, rubbed his hard cock against the bed beneath him but it was all awkward uneven movements that only served to drive him crazier.

Behind him there was the sound of Derek tearing the packet of a condom and pumping out lube to apply to his dick. 

"You okay? Ready?"

"Yeah, yeah." 

Stiles eyelids shut and behind them his gaze flickered in anticipation. He held his breath, teeth biting into his lower lip, until he could feel the thick hot head of Derek's cock pressing into him. The head was sucked in with a pop, dragging a grunt from Derek and a frantic 'ah ah ah' from Stiles. His asshole clenched around the thickness of Derek's cock, greedily pulling it further in even as his body protested at the burning stretch. 

"Wait!" Derek froze, arms leveraging him above Stiles, a sheen of sweat decorating his skin. His cock was only a third of the way in and he was so very close to giving into his instinct and shoving the rest of the way in. His arms trembled. He waited for Stiles to tell him to keep going. Waited what was probably only a minute but felt like a half hour. Once given the okay he nudged in another inch and then another, stopping again when Stiles ordered.

It took them awhile and by the time Derek was fully seated balls deep in Stiles, he'd gone half soft. He ran his hands along Stiles' sides. Reached under the bra and played with the younger man's nipples. Let Stiles rock back against him until Derek was well and truly achingly hard.

Stiles couldn't help it. The burn had faded finally into a dull pulse that filled him like the music at the club had. It was a throb that compelled him to move and fuck himself back onto the man buried to the hilt inside of him. He rocked back onto Derek's cock experimentally, slow, short jerks backwards. Testing. Seeing how much he could take and how hard. 

God he wanted it hard. Wanted Derek to fuck him into the mattress. Make the bed frame dent the wall. Leave his scent and impression so deep inside Stiles he'd never be able to get rid of it. He wanted Derek to mark him. Cover him in the bruises from his finger tips and hickies from his mouth. Make sure everyone knew he'd been Derek's. 

That his first time had been with Derek.

He told Derek all of this as he quickened his pace. His last line spurred him into action and the werewolf took control. He held Stiles hips in place and pulled the man down to meet his thrusts. Every push inwards was long and reached deep. It filled him, made him feel like he would overflow. Stretched him so wide he wanted to see what it looked like when Derek pulled out.

Sparks ran from his ass at every thrust, straight to his dick. Said dick was weeping precome all over the bed, made the sheets slick and slippery as he slid back and forth in time with Derek. Instinct caused him to tilt his ass up. It changed the angle. Meant that Derek was now nailing his prostate with every stroke. 

He couldn't warn Derek. Couldn't find the words because the sensations crashing into him where overwhelming. His orgasm body slammed him. Hit him on his way down to Derek's cock so he was completely filled and his inner muscles milked Derek's length as he spurted cum on his stomach and the bed.

He whited out. Body going completely lax, ass twitching on every inward stroke as Derek worked towards his own end. He lay there in the foggy glow of pleasure, let the delicious waves wash over him, mewled like a kitten every time Derek nailed him particularly roughly. And then Derek was cumming on a growl into Stiles' ear, whispered like a promise of things to come.

The werewolf collapsed on top of him, almost crushing him with his dead weight. It lasted only a handful of seconds and then Derek was dragging himself off with a grunt and disposing of the used condom. He came back and stood by the bed, looking down at the lightly snoring boy on his bed.

The dress was wracked up around his waist, his stockings and bra still on and his makeup was intact with the exception of his removed lipstick. He looked totally debauched. It filled Derek with satisfaction but also a possessiveness. He never wanted someone else to see Stiles like this. 

He climbed over the boy and began to strip him down. Curled up next to him when he was fully naked and pulled him into the warmth of his body. He nuzzled into Stiles' neck, the scent of sex and sweat having overpowered the fruity perfume. He dozed lightly, mainly just watching Stiles sleep until he slipped into slumber also.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Stiles wakes up after this and makes Derek promise they'll do this on a regular basis. As boyfriends. And Derek enthusiastically agrees. 
> 
> This is a stand alone fic that is apart of my All I See is Gold Series.
> 
> I'm [mercurybay](http://www.mercurybay.tumblr.com) on tumblr. :)


End file.
